Judy Alsop
By Judith Alsop
A dear friend and mentor of mine quotes a poignant poem in his book, “Don’t Waste Your Sorrows.” It goes like this:
I walked a mile with pleasure;
She chattered all the way,
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with sorrow;
And ne’er a word said she;
But, O, the things I learned from her
When sorrow walked with me.
Of course, this Sorrow’s first name is “Godly.” Lady Godly Sorrow is full of wisdom. Her counsel, when followed, is able to turn earthly sorrow and suffering into grace and glory. It may not happen all at once, but gradually, as we walk down the road with her, the dark colors of our pain, rejection, helplessness, loss, or whatever we are suffering, will change into the hues of a radiant sunrise–full of grace and glory.
I’ve walked with this gracious lady many times, and have never regretted a moment in her company. I haven’t always realized the full value of her counsel during moments of trial, but when looking back I have seen the beauty of her words. Like the time I heard my father say to my mother that he was leaving her and our family. I was only 10 years old and my heart sank. A wound formed deep inside me, just as it did inside my two older sisters still living at home. But, Sorrow came alongside and walked me through the trauma.
I did not yet know the God of my friend Sorrow, but somehow I was sensitive to her voice. I heard her gently whisper, “Don’t be bitter. Be a good daughter and a good student and things will go well with you.” I tried my best to do those things, hoping to somehow please my missing daddy – hoping he might surprise me one day at school, or by chance see one of my report cards or academic awards. Daddy never showed up, but I was never sorry for trying to do my best. And just two years after daddy walked out, I surrendered my life to God’s one and only Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” Now, Sorrow’s quiet voice became even more clear.
My junior high and high school years saw me doing my best and I graduated with honors from college, thanks to Sorrow’s advice. As a young wife and mother, I felt her presence off and on through the years. But, early one June morning she appeared in full regalia, when my pastor and his wife came to break the news my husband Jim had been killed in a plane crash. Waves of grief crashed over my soul. But, my Lord – “the Man of sorrows” – became a “rock” beneath me and held me close to Himself. Sorrow rushed in as my closest companion, never letting me out of her sight. She taught me the difference between godly sorrow that bears good fruit and the whining of self-pity and despair which bears only bitterness. I learned suffering can be sweet in God’s presence.
My heart slowly healed from both my daddy’s abandonment and my husband’s unexpected death. And, I married again. I married a man full of love, strength and compassion, with a heart zealous for God—truly my prince charming. Not perfect by any means, but just what I needed at this time in my life. The healing he brought me would be difficult to calculate. This man adopted my two girls, who were only two and six at the time of their father’s tragic accident. He loved them as his own and worked hard for many years to provide and care for all of us, until both girls were happily married.
For a time, a lovely step daughter joined our family, but because of her own personal hurts and grief chose to estrange herself from us and from her dad who will always love her deeply. Sorrow still walks with us in this relationship, as we continue to remember this precious daughter and two granddaughters in daily prayers. Sorrow taught us only prayer’s healing balm can relieve the pain of separation.
Even though prayer and intercession do offer some reprieve from the pain of conflict, disagreement or separation from those dearly loved, the sorrow lingers and burrows deep. It does not go away. And, this, my dear friend Sorrow says, is a good thing. For the small cross one carries by God’s grace in this life, becomes the treasure one gains in the life to come. Nothing is wasted if offered up to Him who “does all things well.”
I could go on about the deeper grief of losing precious loved ones to death’s cruel hand and how life is never the same without them: my father (stroke) and father-in-law (heart attack), my favorite uncle (sclerosis of the liver), other aunts and uncles (various diseases), my precious little mom (congestive heart failure), my sweet mother-in-law (cancer), my two sisters (cancer and diabetes), my two brothers-in-law (cancer and heart attack), plus many close friends. It seems now more of my family has left this life than those who still gather around the Thanksgiving table. But, Sorrow says to me, “Don’t weep. Pray. You will see them again, and your fellowship will be sweet and eternal.”
Of all the sorrows and sufferings of this life, the greatest and most difficult to handle is the trial happening right now. Time has healed the sting of past grief, but the present throbbing moment may seem almost impossible to bear. May I introduce you to my friend Godly Sorrow? She is a wise woman, a gracious listener, an astute guide. Allow her to walk with you through the grayness of any ongoing trial and watch her transform it into the radiant sunrise palette of God’s love, grace and glory.
Judy Alsop attends Saint Barnabas Orthodox Church in Costa Mesa, California with her husband Ron.